Deal with the Devil

I had one bad review, one glowing one. My horoscope for February said ‘The fun starts on February 1 when your planet, Venus, makes a conjunction with generous Jupiter and expands your horizons for delight.’

So, naturally, I was delighted.

I chose to celebrate. I tied a pink and black striped stocking around my neck, applied my sparkly black lipstick, and danced around my bedroom to loud, silly music. My iPod, Oberon, whirred as he went through song shuffle and landed on ‘Beelz’ by Stephen Lynch.

Laughing, I sang along.

“My friends all call me Old Scratch and I am a Capricorn!

My turn-ons are romantic walks and killing the unborn!

I’ve got little devil horns and a little goatee,

Little devil eyes to help a little devil see,

Little cloven hooves that make it kinda hard to ski

I’m Satan!”

In the habit of most teenage girls, I glanced into the mirror as I shimmied by it, without thinking. Embarrassingly, I too suffer from the hyper-awareness of my outward appearance that plagues many a female, though I do try to make up for it by means of unflattering clothing and messy black makeup.

Something peculiar caught my attention as my eyes swept over my own reflection on the way past, and I had to put a halt to my jubilation and take a closer look. Normally my face is pale, freckled, and round. My eyes are an unremarkable shade of brown, my nose relatively straight but with a slight kink in the bridge from being broken once or twice, my lips are appealingly plump if a bit ragged from being chewed.

My face had never been so vibrant a shade of red.

“What the hell happened to my chin?” I muttered, seconds before a demon emerged from my mirror.

The Lord of Darkness, whose face I had seen in the mirror, mistaking it momentarily for my own, stood on the slightly-strained beige carpet in my bedroom. His bull-like horns scraped against the ceiling and I worried for the light fixture.

Then I registered the baleful heat to his yellow eyes, and I worried for myself.

“Ah, D-Man. Hello,” I stammered, forcing a pleasant smile. “What brings you here this fine Friday afternoon?”

In lieu of response, Darkness lunged for me with a furious roar. I unashamedly shrieked like a little girl and scrambled out of his way. As I stumbled by my bookshelf I instinctively snatched Rutherford, the largest gargoyle in my collection, from the top shelf and hurled him at Darkness with all my might. Sadly, my might is not very much, so though Rutherford did strike Darkness square between the horns, it was not nearly hard enough to do anything more than just irritate him further.

Darkness charged, knocking over my drum set as he passed. Concern for my own wellbeing outweighed the desire to verify that my drums were uninjured, and I fled down the hall. My albino Pekingese, Greebo, was asleep in his little blue bed just outside the laundry room. As I flew past, he leapt awake with his ears in disarray and his pink tongue poking out.

“RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, GREEBO!” I yowled.

Obediently, Greebo launched himself from his bed and galloped along beside me, his toenails clattering wildly on the tile.

We crashed down the rest of the hall and into the living room. There were cathedral ceilings and skylights, so we might have been safe in here if only it were not raining. It appeared our only escape was to run out through the patio and seek shelter in the backyard until the sun came out. I had not made it farther than halfway across the living room when I heard a sharp squeal behind me.

Whirling around, I saw Darkness standing there, with Greebo held up in one taloned hand. For a few seconds neither of us moved. The only sound was the rain beating against the skylights and Greebo struggling in the demon’s grip.

“Put him down,” I ordered, finally.

Darkness sneered and, looking directly into my eyes, squeezed. Greebo screamed and began to thrash wildly, and that’s about when I lost it.

With an insane battle cry I leapt at Darkness, catching him by surprise and tackling him to the floor. Greebo flew out of his grip and hit the ground running, leaving me alone in the room, straddling the Lord of Darkness. He had not been expecting the violence of my reaction, so provided none of his own for a few moments.

I leaned down close to his face and snarled. “You can do whatever you want with me, but nobody touches my dog.”

My heroism was short-lived, unfortunately. Darkness rolled us over until he was on top of me, and pinned me down with his talons at my throat. Considering how much heavier he is than me, you can imagine I was in a serious amount of pain, never mind the threat of being disemboweled.

“Whatever I want, you say?” The demon chuckled maliciously.

The underlying meaning nearly made my spine turn to jelly. I was hit with the horrifying remembrance that Darkness was, after all, a Satyr. I squealed like a stuck piglet and tried to wriggle out from under him, but Darkness subtly increased pressure with his deadly claws. Not enough to pierce my skin, but enough to make it sting good and hard. I stopped moving and tried not to whimper, or otherwise relinquish whatever shred of dignity I had left considering the circumstances.

“I need to have a word with you.” Darkness let his teasing, coy attitude fall away to be replaced with pure menace. I knew I had to tread carefully.

“What about?” to be honest, I had a sinking feeling I already knew.

“Traffic lights.”

I hate it when I’m right.

“Oh,” I tried the pleasant smile tactic again. “You see, thing is-“

“Pink lawn chair.”

Oh dear. A twinge of desperation snuck out through my voice. “I didn’t-“

“Twizzlers.”

Screw dignity. “I’M SORRY!”

Darkness snorted and moved his thumb-claw to a position perilously near to my left eyeball. “Your impudence arouses in me a strong desire for carnage.”

“It was just a parody!” I shrilled. “It wasn’t supposed to be taken seriously or make any kind of sense!”

“I am no one’s clown.” Darkness got up off me, and for a moment I was relieved. Then, he grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off my feet. “Give me one good reason I ought not flay you like a rabbit.”

God help me, I did try. Unfortunately, what with the slow strangling, all I could do was kick my feet about and make incoherent gurgling noises.

Darkness smirked evily. “Oh, none? Pity.”

He flung me against the wall like I was no more than a rag doll. I slammed into the wall and fell down onto the lumpy, black leather couch. The breath had been knocked out of me and my shoulder ached from where it had struck the wall. I gasped and wheezed, unable to move.

Darkness was on top of me again. He jabbed his knee into the small of my back and ran his talons through my hair, leaving shallow cuts in my scalp that gushed blood. Panicking and smelling the coppery scent of my own death, I rasped out something desperate. I didn’t expect this simple statement to grant me mercy, a thing of which the Lord of Darkness is quite incapable, but to my amazement he paused.

“Repeat what you just said.” He commanded.

I braced my hand on the black leather cushion and looked over my shoulder. Blood trickled into my eye and I blinked it away before whispering louder. “I’ll write something else.”

Darkness eased his knee of me, so I at least I could roll over and face him. I did so, and grunted loudly when he replaced his knee in my abdomen.

“I could…” I coughed, wincing, but afterward my voice was slightly stronger. “I could write another Oneshot…one with you all imposing and terrifying and masculine and so on. If you don’t pulverize me, that is.”

“You presume to make a deal with me?”

I nodded.

Darkness scowled. “That is not a fitting price for what you have done.”

Oh, hell’s pajamas. I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Fine, what else do you want? I do give a magnificent back rub…”

Darkness stared at me in a manner which quite clearly communicated that what I had just said was so asinine that he wouldn’t even dignify it with a beating. Suddenly, his mood appeared to change. There was something almost feline in his manner as he rested the very tip of one talon in the hollow of my throat.

“The way you have painted your lips is pleasing,” he purred. No, really. Purred.

Of all the times to be wearing black lipstick. I tried to scoot myself backward and his knee moved between my legs. Though it was now much easier to breathe, I did not particularly consider the situation improved.

“Multichapter!” I bleated.

Darkness paused in his contemplation of my zipper and looked quizzically into my eyes.

“I’ll write the oneshot…and a multichapter too.”

Darkness rose up off the couch and began to pace back and forth across the rug, his cloak fluttering. It was at this moment that I kind of wished he had a tail, too. That would look neat. As it was, he crossed his bulky arms over his chest and frowned into space. Clearly, I had found my trump card.

“Imagination is even more powerful than Innocence,” he mused, casting me an appraising glance as he turned and continued to pace. “It is keeping thousands of realities alive as we speak. You…you are a strong resource.”

“Yeah, well. I aim to please.” I sat up and examined my tee shirt. It was spattered with blood all around the neck and shoulders, but since it already had Freddy Krueger snarling on the front and fake claw-slashes cut in the back, I considered this to be complimentary to the garment.

Darkness tilted his head, eyeing me thoughtfully. “Very well. I will grant you this boon in exchange for your creative attentions to my realm.”

I was so relieved that I almost fell off the couch. “Grood. I mean…good…and great.”

Darkness gathered his cloak regally around himself and I stood. I curtsied as I had learned from many a Jane Austen movie, and he favored me with a curt nod before he disappeared. Nothing remained to show that he was ever there, save for two hoof-shaped burn marks on the carpet.

I sighed and plopped down right on the floor with my legs tucked under me. I had been extremely lucky. No doubt, the big D would be sending some of his ‘associates’ over every now and again to see how I was coming along. The thought of Blix lurking under my bed or Meg Mucklebones popping out of my toilet was enough to give me some serious gooseflesh. Still, it wasn’t like I hadn’t had deadlines before.

Right then, to work. First, a shower to wash off the blood. Next, a movie for inspiration. As I made my way to the bathroom, I pondered over which film to watch.

At the moment I felt like seeing Rosemary’s Baby.

And yes, I do actually intend to write a Legend multi, sometime in the future. Could be next week, could be next year. Just know that it’s on the burners.

Thank you for reading. If you liked it, leave a review, and if you didn’t, there’s no need to beat the shit out of me because D-Man beat you to it.

-Zippy